I don't remember the first time my dad took me to the fair but I do remember the second time. Unfortunately, the first time is the time I wish I could remember so remembering the second time means nothing.

My dad said the first time he took me to the fair, I got lost. I was running to some stuffed animal booth that caught my eye but halfway to the destination too many people were moving around for me to see it. Imagine being in a hallway where all the corners switch and turn to different corners every time you look at them. It must've been like that but with people.

He eventually found me crying, crouched down by a bench, half hidden by a bush. I was crying because I was afraid and because I really wanted the cotton candy I saw a couple eating next to a game with bowling pins.

My dad said he'd never been so scared in his life. He said he wouldn't know what to do if I'd been lost forever.

If I had contact with him still, I'd call and ask him if he's scared now. If he doesn't know what to do since he left. I wonder if this lack of absence feels the same, being lost or leaving, even if the context says it shouldn't.

I'd say I don't know want to do now that he's gone but I do. I do exactly what I did when he was around. I've survived like this.

The day Jae's mom died, we were riding our bikes on a dirt path, in a field an hour away from the apartment complex.

We said we were going to study and that had been the goal but our backpacks were thrown to the ground when we arrived and we rode our bikes until our legs started to shake from being used so aggressively.

I fell on the path and hurt my elbow. Nothing serious, just a patch of thin skin being pushed from place, like a bleeding blister kind of.

Jae freaked out.

My knees were covered in a dusty red-brown dirt.

He poured water from a water bottle on my elbow and used the edge of his shirt to pat the wound dry. I winced naturally.

"Are you okay?" he asked, the sun was exactly behind his head. There was this illuminated edge around him like angels have in pictures.

I realized how vague the question seemed. I knew what he was asking but I suddenly wanted to be honest. Yes, I was okay, the injury I could live with. But also no, I wasn't okay because my dad had left two hours ago and I got the feeling he wasn't coming back for a while.

Before I could answer, my cellphone rang.

I pulled it from my pocket. The charm on it had snapped. A cheap blue star, outlined in silver, dropped to the ground.

When I flipped the phone open, I didn't catch the first thing my mom said but I did catch the second thing. In hysterics, she told me we had to come back immediately. Jae's mom had suffered a heart attack and was dead.

I know it only took a second for me to snap the phone shut but it felt like a slow week passed. I looked up at Jae to see he was looking at his hand, that was holding mine.

I still don't know how to accurately explain what it's like to be the witness of a person's last few moments before their world falls apart but it's definitely the worst feeling I've ever felt.

I was crouching. I wanted to cry. I wanted my dad to find me. I didn't want to tell Jae the news. I didn't want to ask him if he was okay. I didn't want to feel the pain of my wound because at least I wasn't dead. The sting made me feel guilty.

There's really no guide on how to react in a situation like this. I thought of all the death scenes I'd seen in movies and how characters reacted but it didn't help. I had to find my own way.

I tightened my grip on Jae's hand until the sun moved from behind his head. Then I took a deep breath and became a person he couldn't ever forget, in a moment he couldn't ever forget.

It's weird how we get bookmarked in lives like that.

It's weird how sometimes Jae and I look at each other and I swear the people around us have disappeared. I swear we're still in that field, sitting on that dirt path. I even feel my elbow sting.